Witch's punishment
by shadowgirl999
Summary: Deanna Troi is captured and tried as a witch. adults only, contains nudity and torture as well as a Game of Thrones-style public shaming.
1. Chapter 1

**Witch's punishment: a** **Star Trek fanfiction: chapter one**

 **Takes place in Next Generation timeline, Deanna Troi is left behind due to a transporter malfunction and is subject to the mercies of a primitive culture. Includes torture and sexual humiliation and kind of a version of the "walk of shame" scene from Game of Thrones, but with Deanna playing Cersei. That scene kind of turns me on. Adults only.**

"Captain! We've got to leave, now!" Riker said, leading Deanna Troi through a corridor as angry voices were heard from behind them. "Have O'Reilly get a transporter lock on our position!"

It had all started out pretty regular, a routine investigation of a primitive planet with a technology level barely above medieval level and a culture similar to Earth's Europe during the Dark Ages, but something went terribly wrong. Deanna Troi had been overheard whispering to him about 'feeling' the thoughts of the others, but they hadn't had as much privacy from the populace as they had thought. Thirty minutes, three accusations, and an angry mob later, and they were running through the streets trying to escape a mob that thought she was a witch.

"Deanna, down here!" Riker whisper-shouted as he turned into a large building, obviously some kind of warehouse. "We can hide in there for now!"

He pulled Deanna behind him into the building and slammed the door shut, hearing the angry crowd of torch-bearing people from outside. He shut the door and barricaded it with wooden beams. The building was filled with all kinds of boxes holding various items for sale in the market. The two lovers pulled off their robes used to disguise themselves and heaved a sigh. They had worn medieval-style clothing, Deanna in a corset and ruffled dress, and Riker in a bleached tunic and drawstring pants with a Robin Hood-style hat.

"That door won't hold them for long." Deanna said as she pressed a hand to her temple. "I can feel their rage, their fear…they're coming."

Riker grabbed a hammer and nails and nailed a large beam to the wall, making the door a little more secure as the crowd of people slammed against it.

"All right, that should do. Let's get out of here." He said, pressing the comlink on his communicator badge. "Riker to Enterprise, two to beam up."

" **All right, but my power's low. I'll have to bring you in one at a time."** O'Brien's voice said over the comlink, sounding a little crackly.

"You go first." Deanna said as she squeezed Riker's hand. "I'll be right behind you."

"Well, if you insist." Riker said as he stood still, looking at Deanna with concern.

She felt his worry and tried to beam as much reassurance as she could to her lover, her large eyes conveying compassion. The beam sparkled and shimmered as Riker started to vanish from sight.

"Witch!"

The shouts came louder as the wooden door was splintered to bits, falling off of its hinges. Deanna turned in shock as a group of raggedy peasants and knights clad in metal armor approached her, wielding broadswords.

"Deanna!" Riker yelled, instants before he vanished completely, the people gasping in terror.

"You see?" one of the men yelled as he pointed to Deanna Troi. "She's a witch! She made him disappear into thin air!"

"You're under arrest, mi' lady." Said one of the knights, his voice muffled through his helmet. "For witchcraft and evading enforcers of the law!"

"No! You don't understand!" Deanna yelled as the knights approached her, one of them holding a wooden club.

She looked up, praying the teleport would come soon. But instead of a shimmering beam of light, all that came down on her head was the wooden club of one of the knights. Deanna's mind reeled as she fell to the ground, her vision blurring as she felt herself being pulled upwards and dragged into a big cage…and then everything went black.

 **Hours later…**

A splash of cold water awakened Deanna Troi as she sat upright, her dress filthy from the dirt on the ground. She looked around herself, realizing she was sitting in a little prison cell with only one barred window. The water had come from a bucket held by a man in a brown tunic, obviously the prison guard.

"Up you go, witch." He said, motioning to Deanna as she stood up, her feet shaking. "It's time."

Deanna could sense the man's hatred, but also a sense of lust for her, making her feel nervous. She stood and walked over to a plate he had left for her, containing a chunk of bread, some dusty water, some grapes and some cheese.

"You go in for your punishment in a few minutes, so best eat quickly." The guard said, exiting the cell and locking the door behind her. "The king's torturer likes 'em with a lot of fight left in 'em."

Deanna shuddered, sensing his arousal and realizing he had been watching her while she slept. She hated the grimy feeling of his thoughts on her body, and wondered why the others hadn't found her yet. Hopefully, they would soon, because she didn't like the look of her current situation. Humans in the middle ages did horrible things to women they considered witches, and if this planet was of any indication…Deanna ate quickly, standing up when a shirtless masked man entered the cell door.

"All right wench, strip." He said, leering at Deanna and stretching out a long whip.

"What?" Deanna gasped, feeling the man's cruel lust and sadism.

"You heard me, you harlot." He said, holding the whip threateningly. "Take off your clothes now."

Deanna hesitated, but the man only cracked the whip close to her face, making her jump.

"Strip!" the man said, stretching out the whip again. "Unless you'd like me to do it for you?"

Deanna slowly stood straight and stepped out of her shoes. She then reached behind her back, unbuttoning her blouse and dress and pulling the whole thing over her head. Finally, she unfastened her corset and stepped out of her pantaloons, standing in only her bra and panties.

"All the way, you harlot witch!" the man growled. "You could be hiding a witch's wand somewhere."

Deanna removed her undergarments, standing naked before the man. He clamped a pair of manacles over her wrists and a collar around her neck, tugging the chain and leading her forwards.

"Right this way, witch girl." He hissed as he pulled Deanna forwards, the counselor stumbling slightly. "Time to go."

Deanna Troi followed, the collar and chain around her neck forcing her to follow the man forwards through the dungeon. They passed by other prisoners, some of whom jeered at her and groped her through the cell doors.

"Where are we going?" she asked, hiding her body from the men in the cells.

There was no answer. Deanna's childhood had taught her not to be ashamed of her nudity. In fact, on Betazed, it was pretty commonplace, with many events such as weddings being performed naked. However, in this case it was a source of shame for her, a reason for vulnerability. Deanna's Starfleet training had taught her that nudity was very offensive in public, and that overwhelmed her childhood securities. She remembered a few months back when she and her mother had been abducted by the Ferengi. They had been stripped of all of their clothes by their teleporter, and left naked when they arrived. Her mother had given her a greenish blanket that was lying nearby for modesty, since she knew her daughter had been living among humans and knew that nudity was seen as offensive to many. However, in this case, she was all alone.

"When will my clothing be given back to me?" Deanna asked, stumbling as she stepped into a large room made out of brick, lit only by torches.

"Never, harlot." The man said as he tugged the leash. "They're being burned right now as we speak."

Deanna stood still, her humiliation evident as she was led into the middle of the large room. A variety of devices were surrounding her, and she didn't like the look of any of them.

"Sit down!" the torturer yelled, pointing to a steel chair with manacles attached to it and a bucket beneath the seat.

Deanna realized she had no choice and sat, the cold metal feeling uncomfortable on her naked skin. The man clamped the manacles over her wrists, ankles and waist, hooking the collar onto the backrest and locking it in place. Deanna tested the cuffs, realizing they were absolutely solid. She saw the man rifling through a variety of horrible instruments, coming out with a long rubber tube and a funnel.

"Open wide!" he growled as he approached Deanna.

The naked counselor refused, holding her mouth tightly shut. The man pinched Deanna's nose closed, making her gulp as her air was cut off. She tried hard to hold on, begging her lungs to hold out for a few moments more…but to no avail. She opened her mouth, and the instant she did so, the torturer thrust a metal clamp into her jaws, twisting a screw and forcing her mouth wide open. He then thrust a long rubber hose into her throat and into her gullet, making Deanna choke as it reached her stomach.

"Holy water, perfect for a witch!" the man said as he held up a large bottle of water with a cross on it, attaching the funnel to the tube.

Deanna gasped, choking on the tube as he held her nose and poured the water down the funnel, forcing it into her stomach. She screamed through the tube as the water filled her stomach, cutting off all air to her lungs. Her bare breasts heaved as she choked on the torrent of water, watching the bottle as it finally emptied out into her stomach. The torturer ripped the tube from her throat, making her cough and gag as she spat the remainder of the water out of her mouth and onto the man. Deanna's bowels and bladder gave out from the fear, filling the bucket with her filth as she coughed and gagged.

"SLUT!" the man screamed as he slapped Deanna's bare belly, making her retch and gag as the water distended her stomach, which grumbled in protest.

She felt the bile in her stomach building up as she doubled over as much as possible while in the chair and vomited, purging her stomach onto her lap and thighs. The man held her head up by her hair and glared at her, his ugly face in Deanna's mind as he poured water over the naked woman's head.

"Are you a witch?" he growled.

"N-No!" Deanna whimpered, her mind overwhelmed by the man's filthy thoughts.

She struggled against the iron chair as the man reached behind him and pulled up an iron helmet shaped like a woman's head, a chastity belt and a chastity brasserie, along with rounded metal manacles, built to fit over her hands. The torturer unlatched her from the chair, and pulled her chain upright, forcing her to stand straight up.

"Hold still." He growled as Deanna stood upright, coughing from her horrific treatment.

She stood still as he walked over to her, pulling her arms behind her back and clamping the balled manacles over her hands.

"W-What are you g-going to do to me?" Deanna whimpered, her mind feeling the man's lustful thoughts.

"Hang you, Palestinian-style." The man said as he clamped the chastity belt over her crotch, making her wince at the uncomfortable feeling. "But first, to make certain you do not attempt to sin further by pleasuring yourself while you are in the dungeons."

He then locked the steel bra over her chest, chafing her breasts with the cold iron cups. Another man locked the helmet over Deanna's head as he pulled a long chain with a hook attached down from the ceiling and lashed it around her balled manacles. He then walked over to a horse and attached the chain to its yoke, slapping its flank with a meaty hand.

"Yah!" he yelled, making the horse whinny and trot forwards, pulling the chain through the pulley system.

Deanna screamed into the iron helmet around her head as she was lifted into the air, her chastity bikini weighing her body down as her arms, bound behind her back, bore the full weight of her body and everything on it.

" _ **Oh dear god in heaven, this is horrible!"**_ she thought to herself as she swung naked from her arms, her shoulders almost wrenched from their sockets as she was slowly lifted higher and higher.

This was strappado, an ancient torture technique that would either cause horrible pain or the dislocation of the arms. Deanna felt like she would prefer death to either of them right now as she felt the sadistic thoughts of the men surrounding her. She screamed into the helmet, her own voice deafening her as it echoed through the enclosed space her head was trapped in. Deanna hung there in nothing but her wrought-iron bra and panties, her arms being slowly tugged out of their sockets.

"AAAUUGGHH!" Deanna screeched at the absolute top of her lungs as she hung there, her toes barely touching the ground.

Her voice echoed through her iron helmet, the expression of pleasure on the female mask a complete opposite to her current feelings of pain. Her arms were in absolute pain, her shoulders practically ripped out of her sockets by her own weight. A couple of pops were heard as her arms were dislocated, and she wished for death. Deanna could only hear her own voice inside the helmet, and right now, she was whimpering and gasping, begging for relief.

"Please…no more…" she begged, writhing around as her arms went numb. "….no more…"

Suddenly, she felt herself moving again as she slowly lowered onto the filthy floor, collapsing in a heap as she sobbed. Her wrists were unbound as her arms, useless to her at the moment, were left to slump by her sides. The iron bikini she wore felt like it weighed over a million pounds, her hands feeling cramped from the spherical manacles they had been forced into. She could just barely hear the men saying something, and she focused on their minds, using her empathic abilities to read their minds.

" _ **Put her back in the dungeon for now."**_ Said one of them.

" _ **Let's have her atonement begin on the morrow."**_ Said another.

Deanna passed out from the pain, her body feeling numb to the agony. She slumped over on her back as she felt herself being lifted and taken onto a wooden wheelbarrow to a dungeon cell…and then everything went black.

 **To be continued...** __


	2. Chapter 2: walk of shame

**Witch's punishment chapter 2: walk of shame**

 **Full-on nudity and humiliation in this chapter, rated M, remember. Think Cersei's punishment from Game of Thrones.**

The next day…

Deanna Troi awoke to the sound of horse's hooves clopping above her head, and sat upright to find herself back in the dungeon cell. She was at least dressed in something other than that awful chastity bikini, albeit in nothing but a filthy tunic with no underwear to speak of, but still dressed. She quickly ate the food provided on a small wooden plate and lay down on a cot of hay, her body feeling rested but still in pain. She pulled at her shoulders, which were sensitive from being pulled out of their sockets earlier.

"Deanna Troi, what have you gotten yourself into?" she said to herself as she pulled one arm back, the joint popping back into place.

A sound caught Deanna's attention, and she turned to see a priest walking into the dungeon cell, accompanied by two soldiers.

"Ah, I see you have awakened, my dear." He said, his tone calm and somber. "My name is Brother Malt, a priest in the High Church of Chaal."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Deanna asked, shaking as her tunic-clad body felt cold.

"Because witches like yourself have to be taught lessons." Brother Malt said as he sat down next to her on the cot. "We have apparently brought you back to heaven, or you would have used your magic to escape the cell overnight."

"Then I am not a witch." Deanna said as she rubbed her face, her makeup having run over her eyes. "Let me go, please."

"Yes, it appears the magic has been bled out of you with the pain." Brother Malt said as he placed a hand on Deanna's shoulder. "You shall be released."

He stood up and looked at her as two guards pulled her to her feet, a nun with a sponge and a bucket scrubbing her down with soap.

"After your atonement, that is." Brother Malt said. "You are to atone for your crimes before the town. You are not married, is that true?"

"No, why?" Deanna asked, not liking the answer to her own question.

She shuddered at the cold water as the woman continued cleaning her body, making her feel uncomfortable.

"Examination of your body has revealed you are not a virgin." Said Brother Malt. "An unmarried woman and not a virgin…"

Deanna shuddered as she felt the guards latching heavy manacles over her wrists and pulling her along to the front of the dungeon.

"…such disrespect must be punished. And the offender seen for her crimes for all to see as the lord made her."

Deanna didn't like the sound of that.

"Make her ready."

The woman with the sponge pulled out a razor, quickly shaving Deanna's legs and vulva with it. Deanna shuddered as she shaved her buttocks and then moved upwards to her scalp.

"Hold still, whore girl." She said, holding Deanna's head still as she pulled out a pair of scissors, grabbing a handful of her hair.

Deanna choked back sobs as her beautiful hair was shorn from her scalp, leaving nothing but a smooth, bald head beneath as the razor was stroked across it. The woman then dunked a bucketful of water over her head, leaving Deanna as bare as she had been in her infancy, bald, naked and helpless.

"There, you're done." She said, pulling Deanna to her feet and pulling a filthy tunic over her body. "Now follow me girl, time for your atonement."

 **Later…**

Deanna Troi was pulled out into the front of the dungeon by two knights, prodded forward towards a large crowd gathered around the dungeon. A few other knights put up a long pair of ropes to form a walkway between the people, apparently for Deanna to walk through. They forced the counselor to stand on the steps, her body feeling pained as she stood there in only a filthy hooded tunic and no underwear, her head bald beneath the hood.

"The woman you see before you has been accused of witchcraft." Brother Malt said as the crowd booed and jeered. "However, she has been tested and purified, and her soul has been judged to be free of witchery."

Deanna looked around her, wondering what was going on. She could see the knights behind her as they held out their clubs, looking threatening.

"However, she has been discovered to be unmarried. Her chastity has not been respected, as she is not a virgin." Brother Malt said, the words earning more booing and jeering from the crowd. "She has made herself filthy from her deeds and disrespected herself and her body."

Deanna shuddered, the cold air moving through her tunic as she stood. Her lack of underwear made her clitoris recede into her vagina for warmth as her nipples stood on end.

"And so, she shall be performing public atonement to cleanse her soul." Said Brother Malt. "She shall be as the good god made her to be, her body exposed like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. She shall walk to the castle in her suit of skin and beg the king for atonement."

Deanna wondered how people on another planet would know of the Bible, but she didn't have a chance to think on this as she was roughly stripped her of tunic and made naked once more, much to her humiliation. Her baldness seemed to amuse them, and it humiliated Deanna. The crowd went silent as a nun walked up behind Deanna and held up a large bell, ringing it and prodding her bare back with a stick to make her move forwards.

"Shame!" yelled the nun, forcing Deanna to walk forwards in her bare feet. "Shame! Shame!"

Deanna felt her cheeks burning with deep red blush as she strode forwards, accompanied by two guards. She walked naked through the line that had been cleared out for her, her firm breasts jiggling slightly as her skin glistened from sweat.

"Whore!" yelled one of the men from the crowd as he threw a rotten egg at Deanna, the pungent odor hitting her as it shattered over her face.

"Slut!" yelled a woman as she threw rotten cabbage at Deanna, one of the leaves sticking to her vulva.

Deanna walked through the crowd as she cried in utter shame, her heart pounding. She hated this, being forcibly stripped naked, shaved totally bald, tortured, humiliated…she wished something, anything, that could end her torment. Her limbs still ached from the strappado she had been subjected to, and it hurt to move, but she walked onwards.

"I've had half as many cocks as you!" a naked prostitute screamed as she pulled open her robe, shaking her large breasts before Deanna.

A guard pushed her back as the nun kept ringing that damned bell, chanting "shame" every few seconds. Deanna's eyes burned with tears of complete and utter humiliation as she strode naked, her firm D-cup breasts held up like a shelf.

"Suck me off, whore!" a man yelled as he dropped his pants, revealing his genitals to Deanna as she walked past. "I heard you suck, so do it! Do it now!"

A guard pushed him back with a club, making him fall into the crowd as Deanna kept walking, with more and more people throwing rotten food and other things at her. A full diaper was hurled at her, sticking to her chest and smearing it's disgusting contents all over her bare breasts. Rotten eggs were cracked over her face, the yolks filling her ears.

"Shame! Shame! Shame!"

It was all she could hear now, although Deanna could definitely feel. She felt everyone's hatred of her, their contempt for her sexuality, their hatred for her not being a witch, because then they could do whatever they wanted to her. She slipped on a pile of eggs, landing flat on her bare butt on the stone ground and landing in an enormous pile of horse manure that engulfed her up to her neck.

"Shame! Shame! Shame!"

Deanna was roughly tugged to her feet and pushed forwards, the guards making her walk on and on. The castle was a long way away, and she would have to walk it all in her bare feet, which were already sore and covered in filth. She had been naked, but now she wore the filth they threw as clothing. It was a stiff, ugly garment of browns and reds and greens and yellows and purples, with no warmth to it at all.

"Shame! Shame! Shame!"

Deanna sobbed uncontrollably as she continued onwards, with twenty men dropping their pants before her. Their manhoods went erect as the naked Betazoid walked on, her mind assaulted with horrible thoughts and feelings. She walked through them, but they suddenly pushed her to her knees and forced her hands upon their solid cocks, forcing her to jerk them off. Their fluids shot out like bullets and stuck to her already-filthy skin, sticking to her eyelids and forming a mask of cum over her beautiful face.

"Shame! Shame! Shame!"

Deanna stood up and walked onwards, the semen hardening in the dry heat. By now, she was absolutely and utterly coated in filth and slime and cum and beer and eggs and various other kinds of refuse. It felt like a suit of garbage, worn by a knight of filth. Deanna felt the sadistic and sexist feelings towards her from the thousands of people around her, their thoughts overwhelming her mind. She looked up, praying she was close to the castle. She was only a little more than halfway there. She sighed and stood up, walking with her head held high. She was going to have to wait.

 **One and half Hours later…**

Deanna felt like scum. She was covered in nothing but filth and garbage, caked on and dried in the sunlight. She was deafened by the horrible shouts and screams of the people as she looked upwards. Her heart rose as she realized she was almost there, just a few more steps and she would be at the castle.

"Drink up, you harlot!" a man yelled as he dumped beer over her head, making her feel like she was drowning. "Get 'er to Th' whorehouse, eh?"

Deanna ignored him and stepped forwards, her bare feet covered in so much scum she felt like she was wearing slippers. Her entire body felt like it was covered in a garment of dough, much like the old kids story of Mickey in the Night Kitchen.

"We're here." The knights said as they opened the gates of the castle. "Get inside, whore girl. And step lively, the King wants to see you."

Deanna shuddered in the utter shock she had received, her mind overwhelmed with thoughts of humiliation as she slowly walked into the castle, totally naked. The court laughed at her as a man in red robes, undoubtedly the King, looked her up and down with lust in his eyes. Deanna stopped when the court jester looked at her in pity, frowning as one of the courtiers dumped wine over his head.

"Are you deaf, girl?" the knight yelled, holding up his sword. "I said-!"

Suddenly, a shimmering beam of energy shone around Deanna Troi's naked, filthy body, engulfing it in energy and emitting an all-too-familiar sound.

"What witchcraft is this?" yelled the king, jumping to his feet and pulling out his sword. "Stop that girl!"

Deanna smiled and put her hands on her hips, smirking at the king. She resisted the urge to put up her middle finger as she shimmered and faded, vanishing from sight and reappearing in the transporter room, totally nude, coated head to toe in various types of filth and bruised from her torture the other day.

"She's here, go to warp speed, immediately!" Geordi said as Beverly Crusher ran forwards with a robe, wrapping it around Deanna Troi's naked, bald body.

"Deanna, oh my god!" Dr. Crusher said as she hugged her naked friend close. "Are you okay?"

Deanna smiled and nodded, her legs shaking violently. Beverly helped her walk off of the transporter platform as the Enterprise shuddered slightly. As she did so, Deanna felt her compassion and pity, and wanted nothing more than to make sure she knew she was okay.

"I'm fine, Beverly." She said as she hugged the older woman close, her bare breasts pressing tight to the doctor's chest. "But I might need some cleaning."

"They didn't…violate you…did they?" Beverly asked, whispering the words into her friend's ear.

"No, they just hurt me." Deanna said as she walked down the hallway in Beverly's arms, her aching joints feeling heavy and inflexible. "But I'm glad to be back."

The two women walked arm in arm down the hallway, Deanna wearing nothing but a robe as they entered the sickbay.

"There you go, just lay down here and I'll give you a sponge bath in a moment." Dr. Crusher said as Deanna lay down on the bed, discarding the robe due to there no longer being any need for modesty. "If you need anything, just call me. I'm going to have the computer scan you for infections or diseases, and I'll be right back."

Deanna stretched out, her limbs aching from being tortured the other day. As she lay down to rest, the bell for the door rang.

"Deanna?" Riker's voice came from the comlink in the door. "Are you okay?"

Deanna Troi almost leapt off the bed. She felt her heart thrill at the sound of Riker's voice as she sat upright, not caring that she was fully naked.

"Yes, I'm going to be." She said as she stretched out her aching limbs. "Thank you for your concern."

"Are you decent?" Riker asked, the door opening.

"No, but you can come in anyway, imzadi." Deanna said as she stood on her own feet, shaking slightly.

Riker walked in and hugged her tight, her naked, bald body warm against his own.

"Riker, I'm filthy!" Deanna sobbed, her bald scalp feeling warmer as he touched it. "I wouldn't even want to touch myself right now, let alone have you do so!"

"Nonsense, Deanna." Riker said as he kissed her face. "You need to feel good."

Deanna admitted she felt nothing but pain, and as he squeezed her into a hug, she felt her injured limbs feeling soft and flexible again. Her nudity no longer humiliated her, since she was among friends and lovers. She kissed him full on the lips, her mind slowly drifting as there was a beep at the door.

"Come in, Dr. Crusher." Riker said with a smirk as Deanna playfully shoved him.

"You just want her to scold us like we're teenagers, don't you?" Deanna said as she heard the door being opened.

"I prefer to think of it as a doctor seeing her patent healing." Riker said with a grin as he turned around. "All right Beverly, she seems to-"

Suddenly, the two of them did a double take, with Deanna covering her bare breasts. Standing before them, held by Beverly Crusher from his motley collar, was the court jester she had seen down on the planet.

"Um…where exactly am I?" the jester asked, looking around the place. "Did I die? Am I finally in heaven?"

"Well…it's a long story." Deanna Troi said as she pulled the blankets over her nude body with a smirk.

The jester looked around the place with eyes wide.

"Are you the goddess Venus?" he asked when he noticed Deanna, bowing immediately. "Oh goddess, how may I service you? Where am I? What has happened to me? Where's your hair?"

The three of them looked at each other with confused looks, all of them wondering how to respond.

"Well, one thing's for sure." Said Riker, smirking slightly. "You've fallen down the rabbit hole and ended up in wonderland."

The three of them laughed, the jester looking confused before joining in. Deanna felt relaxed, and flattered to be compared to a goddess of love. For the first time since her capture, she felt relaxed. She was the witch, the goddess, and the councilor of the Enterprise, and that was good enough for her.

 **The end**


End file.
